


the one who didn't die

by Raaj



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raaj/pseuds/Raaj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's hard to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There were footsteps on the stone floor, eight sets, and I recognized the rhythm of each and every one. My friends had come for me, unless my ears started playing tricks after being stuffed full of silence. Either way, I still had to pray, so I kept my eyes closed, hands clasped, head and heart bowed to the Planet.

“Cloud.” That was Tifa’s voice. After a pause and shuffling of feet, only one pair of boots made the long strides, leaps really, of the pillars to the altar. Took several further steps, and stopped in front of me.

I still had to wait for an answer. No matter what, I couldn’t stop praying until the Planet responded. Even for this dear friend. The air between our bodies felt charged, but there was no interruption.

Finally an answer, the answer came, bringing a smile to my face as I looked up. Tifa’s hand rested just above my shoulder. She must have wanted to shake me to attention and just barely held herself back; her eyes were so full of anxiety, I was surprised she’d managed. The frown on her lips softened. I was sure she’d return my smile soon, though maybe not without a lecture first; Tifa had often made me think in small ways of my adopted mother.

“Aerith, we were so _worried_ ,” she said, and she took a breath for her next words, her hand already moving to help me up if I wanted. Then the other hand flew up, and both shoved me back. In the next instant the long blade of the Masamune would have split me open. Seeing it pierce Tifa's stomach, I screamed like it had.

It only slid in further as Sephiroth landed. Then Tifa slumped forward, her feet leaving the ground as she was lifted on his sword. I didn't move. I couldn't, staring as my friend dangled and struggled to breathe, my mind floundering on how the blade could possibly come out of her without all the life spilling out too. Sephiroth paused for a moment, examined his handiwork—then flicked his wrist, dislodging her like she was nothing. Tifa nearly tumbled off the altar into the still waters, but there was Cloud. I didn't see where he came from, but he appeared a split-second before she would have gone over the ledge; his arms locked around her limp body before he sunk down with her, clutching her tightly. Red marked the path she'd taken. Red was already staining the faded SOLDIER uniform.

“Be grateful, Cetra,” Sephiroth murmured, locking eyes with me. “You will not die alone.”

Immediately bullets ricocheted off of Sephiroth’s guarding blade as Vincent opened fire. Nanaki howled and pounced, and for once when Yuffie’s mouth opened there was no boasting or bragging but shrill screaming—a cry of war. “Get ‘er back, kid!” Cid barked at Cloud, and when Masamune swung toward Nanaki, the pilot managed a tight jump over Sephiroth, jutting out his spear as he passed to thump the swordsman in the back and make him stumble—forcing him just a little farther from me as I scrambled to my feet. In response, the fearsomely long sword lashed out at us. Blood streamed from Cid’s shoulder, but still he stood between me and the once-great Sephiroth.

“Cid—Cid, don’t—!”

“Shut it!” he snapped. “You had everything figured out? He ain’t stopping you while I’m here, so #$@#in’ finish it!”

Finish it. Of course. Sephiroth hadn’t come for blood, even if he hadn't hesitated to spill it. He had hoped to stop Holy’s summoning. “Sephiroth!” I cried out. “You’re too late! Even if you kill me, the Planet already heard my prayer! You _lost_!” Frantic, I undid my ribbon with one hand and yanked the materia out with the other, ripping out some strands of hair too, and raised the orb for him to see its green glow. “Whatever you do now, it doesn’t matter! Holy will come!”

So please…

Please…leave us alone. It was a new prayer pounding in my frantic heart. _Please leave us. Please let Tifa live. Please, please, please let her live. Tifa, don't die!_

He looked at me and the White materia, and for a fraction of a second, a flicker passed in his proud face, and my heart lifted.

Then he smirked.

“Clever girl,” he crooned. “This does complicate things. But that’s all it does.”

“You can’t fight Holy!”

“Did you really believe this wounded, dying Planet could produce a miracle? One to overpower a god? Two thousand years ago, when your people still thrived—perhaps Holy would have been sufficient.” That thin-lipped smirk widened. “No longer. You gambled on a miracle that will not come. And now this one has given her life in your stead—”

“Shut up. She won’t die.”

The harsh words came from Cloud, still knelt over Tifa, green radiating from the Restore in his hand and from his wild eyes. Barret stood over the two of them. Sephiroth laughed, speaking without turning.

“Can you save her, Cloud? You believed yourself the sole survivor of Nibelheim once. Isn't that right? How did it feel back then? Though you feel nothing truly…dredge those illusory emotions back up, if you want to keep the charade.”

“Shut up! I don't care what you say—!”

Sephiroth’s eyes flashed; Cloud bent over double, spasming, the healing spell dying away. I could see it again—that thing that had taken him over in the temple, it was—

"Cloud!"

“S—stop! Don’t—Ti, ti…aaa…ahhh…!”

“Get a damn grip!” Barret roared, enveloping the Restore in his good hand and clutching hard enough to crush Cloud’s hand in-between. A faint whimper broke out of Cloud, still shaking, but the light of the materia flared back to life.

Tifa took a gasping breath, but didn't wake.

And the monster who had just stabbed her…without once looking back at her or Cloud, who was half-cradling her and half-sunk in his own collapse…Sephiroth simply ascended above the city, leaving a piece of Jenova behind.


	2. the one who didn't follow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even if you don't die, you're going to have to face the music, one way or the other.

"Everyone, listen to me."

Usually such a firm tone from Cloud would have gotten everyone's heads up right away even though we had been resting. It spoke of urgency and of leadership and was a tone both feared and loved, feared because of what made it a necessity but loved because it was determined to overcome any challenge.

This time all heads rose at once, but slowly, like we were wind-up dolls a few turns short. We were exhausted. I felt like I ached just _looking_ at the others, seeing the small-scale triage Jenova had forced us to with the numerous wounds she'd inflicted as we tried so hard to protect Tifa's body. Life-threatening wounds had been healed. Mostly. Wounds that had threatened to cripple were taken care of. Injuries that ached and stung from the strange blue light that creature had shot out, lungs that still burned from when it turned the air into water all too easily sucked down by accident? We had to save restorative items so far in unknown territory, and most of us had already offered all the spirit energy our bodies could spare for the time being. Cait Sith had in fact "sacrificed" himself again, giving up all the energy he had, and sat deactivated in a nook of the seashell house we had dragged ourselves to for rest. The little machine was dead to the world until someone could feed him back a wisp of their own energy. And though I didn't know how his mechanics worked, I could only imagine that his Shinra operator was busy popping aspirin in sympathy pain.

Sympathy pain… I ached looking at the others, but my lungs were the only part of me that actually pained, as I'd been caught up in the aqualung casting as well. Otherwise, I had been quickly pushed back toward Cloud and Tifa, with Barret and Vincent forming a protective shield between us three and the monster as Nanaki, Yuffie, Cait Sith and Cid all attacked. Tifa had been nearly dead. Cloud had had his mind ravaged once again. I had never felt so useless, directing the little energy I still had after summoning Holy to heal her from a cautious distance, wary to put steadying hands on her when I was all too conscious of the man holding her. I still wasn't completely sure what had provoked him to beat me at the Temple and couldn't chance a repeat. I was too scared. Cloud could break, I could break; and if something did start between us and diverted the others' attention, Jenova could easily wipe them out. It had been a relief when Cloud passed Tifa to me with a rough "Take care of her" and gotten up to turn the tide of the fight himself, seemingly recovered.

Cloud was good at seeming. He gave no sign anything had been wrong with him besides a bit of a rough tumble as we looked up at him, breaking away if only a little bit from the thick worry that hung around us.

"The damn cat's still off, man," Barret rumbled.

"Don't worry. I'll tell him later."

"Hard to make plans 'less we know where everyone stands."

The look Cloud gave Barret in return was the first indication that something was wrong besides the obvious. It was annoyed, but in a cool way, only a small curl of his lips indicating what he thought of this. Was he still mad at Cait Sith for being a spy? Barret had even more reason to be angry, given the underhanded trick his operator had pulled with Marlene. Which might have been the reason he wanted the robot roused. Without saying anything, Cloud palmed the Revive of the restorative materia that had been pulled loose from every bracer and pooled together after the battle, giving the orb a small burst of energy. The resulting spell lacked finesse and was hollow in potency; Cait Sith made it very clear as he shook himself awake atop his mog that he didn't feel healthy. "Och, me bones. I'm not long for this world."

I winced at how wrong that was to say given Tifa's state. There was no warning for the crowned cat before Yuffie's boot flew across the room to knock him clean off his stuffed toy mount, straight and true as any of her shuriken. "Shut up! You could not be in it at all!"

"Go on, kid," Cid prompted Cloud after Yuffie flew out of the room, a whirlwind of anxiety and frustration. With only one boot, she wouldn't go far, and even if we wanted to include everyone it was probably better to leave her to herself for a little bit.

The second indication something was wrong, besides the obvious, was the next thing Cloud said: "We are going after Sephiroth."

Everyone had expected that to be said. But not so soon. "Cloud, what about Tifa?" I asked him. "She's still…"

Hurt, barely clinging to life; even revives couldn't wake her, and two phoenix downs had melted into her skin without any stirring. Nanaki stayed by her side in vigil, the only one with any strong spellcasting left; his keen senses would let him know sooner than anyone else if she took a turn for the worse, so he could at least try to stabilize her. What she really needed was a hospital, but we weren't going to find one this far north…and there weren't many option south, either, considering who we were.

"I know." For barely a second, Cloud's face twisted up with a grimace. Then he swallowed and shook it off. "But we have to stop him before he uses the Black Materia. …We don't have time to wait. Sephiroth made it clear that Holy doesn't threaten him."

"And we're certain he wasn't bluffing?" Vincent asked calmly from where he leaned against the ivory wall, lifting his crimson eyes to rest on me. I pursed my lips, feeling terrible about the answer. "Or were you, when you said it had been summoned?"

"No… You think he would have fallen for a trick like that?" I shook my head, reaching into my bolero to take the glowing materia out of a pocket. Now that I knew its true purpose, keeping it in my hair seemed too precarious. "Holy is the ultimate defense of the Planet. I was called here to pray for it, and… it, it should help."

The last words fell hopelessly flat. I had felt Holy—I _had_. The Planet had answered, and something old and majestic had begun to stir. But then Tifa had been stabbed, and we had been attacked, and when I'd finally started getting my wits back together they'd nearly left me again to realize I couldn't feel Holy. At least I had the materia; as long as it glowed, I could believe the summon was acting, and the feeling only muted because Sephiroth was using up his strength to fight it back. Something good must have come out of this.

Cid snorted. "'Should help.' Girl, I know you like to take it on faith, but after today's fuckup, there's gotta be something more substantial."

My hands clenched around Holy, hiding its green glow. I—honestly hadn't expected this outcome. I had been certain I would either succeed, or that I wouldn't understand my ancestors, or that I could even die, but this turn of events I had never imagined. I'd left the others so they wouldn't get hurt by this. "I wish I had more to tell you."

"We can't change what happened now," Cait Sith said sadly, cradling his head. Rather than climbing back on his usual perch, he sat on the bed nearest his mount. He didn't look like he could take any more tumbles off the mog.

"No, we damn well can't," Cid spat out. "That's why we've got a girl who's taken 'bleeding heart' a bit literally for comfort. What we can do is figure out what numskull moves were made and not make 'em again. So you know what you did wrong?"

He had turned on me again, forefinger jabbed squarely at me, and for a second I thought I knew how Shera must feel. Because he had just protected me from Sephiroth, I knew I owed him for that, and I knew this tirade wasn't spurred by malice—he was worried, for Tifa's sake—but Cid's anger was a very real, ugly thing, and he had a way to look at someone like they were less than a salted slug. Worse than the look was the sinking conviction that I deserved it.

"What you did wrong," he went on when I didn't speak up, "The very first thing is, you let the voices in your head tell you what to do." Oh, he had chosen the wrong thing to start on; I straightened my shoulders, staring back at him automatically, because I knew very well they were not in my head. "Sure, you're an Ancient. And from what I've been seeing lately, that's something pretty special. You still can't tell us _shit_ if your stunt actually did any good, so I don't give a hoot."

…Maybe he knew how to pick a weak spot after all.

"You think you've got an idea? Great. _Tell us._ Because the second thing you did wrong? You ran off on us! Here we finally get the kid carted to Gon- _na-drive-me-fuckin'_ -gaga, hole up in the inn, all right, things are starting to look up from drop-dead bleak. Except, suddenly, no one can remember the last time they saw you. Wasted hours in that goddamn jungle making sure you hadn't gotten yourself turned into a toad. And I hope you did get yourself turned at least once so you know how it feels to be slimy and small," he added as a mutter on the tail end of a breath. Everyone but Vincent was starting to look uncomfortable now; Cloud looked blank as Cid described things that had happened while he was still unconscious, Barret shifted uncomfortably on his seat, and Nanaki's face could only be described as hangdog as he looked at me. Not that I was properly looking back at him; by now my eyes had dropped to my hands closed in my lap. Everyone might be uncomfortable, but no one was trying to stop Cid's rant. "So then you figured out you were in over your head," he continued with new wind, and my eyebrows furrowed. What was he talking about? "So you send the kid a dream, let us haul ass in the right direction. I'd give you some credit, but hell, that was the worst way to find out Sephiroth was after you."

But I hadn't told Cloud anything of the sort—I hadn't known. And I was sure they hadn't been playing Telephone with my message, which meant Cloud had held some reason to believe Sephiroth knew where to find me.

…If Sephiroth had told him himself, just as I'd told Cloud my intentions… and if their connection ran that deep, if _Cloud_ had been the key to Sephiroth figuring out what I'd meant to do…

I'd already known there was some bond between them, something dark and twisted, but this new possibility was too much. My head swam as I looked up at Cloud, trying to see if his face would tell me the truth. It was almost absentmindedly that I said, "I didn't mean for you to follow me."

There was a pause. Cloud tore his eyes away from me to stare at the floor. Cid spat out the unlit cigarette he'd been fruitlessly chewing on. "Is that supposed to warm the cockles of my heart?" he asked me. "Well? Because these are not warm cockles, you might as well thrown ice on them. I might think you're the biggest idiot alive, but you're at least alive, and if you hadn't told us where you were going you'd be lying dead on that pillar right now and we'd have never. fucking. known. Was that the goddamn master plan, huh? Well?" My mouth opened but there was nothing I could think of to say because it wasn't true, I would've been okay, but he had no reason to think that, and I couldn't tell them what the real mistake I had made was. Cloud was the leader of AVALANCHE, he couldn't be Sephiroth's— "What the hell's the matter with you, Aerith?! Tifa might die!"

…And maybe it should be me lying dead on the altar. Tifa had only gotten hurt trying to protect me.

Cloud rocked back on his heels, seeming dazed before he turned to Cid. "That's _enough_!"

"Cloud…"

"Yo, man."

Various voices filled the giant conch structure, all of us concerned at the outburst. Yelling from Cid was normal; from Cloud, it was something else. The former SOLDIER took a deep, steadying breath before he continued.

"She's not going to die. And even if…" Cid's words had broken Cloud's composure; no longer stone-faced, he couldn't even finish the sentence, his eyes pressed nearly shut in pain. He shook his head twice, slowly. "Aerith made a mistake, but she's not the one to blame. Aerith… please…" He found my eyes again and this time I almost was the one to shrink away, because his eyes looked so painfully broken. "Don't run off on us like that again."

"I won't." The promise was the least I could offer him, and everyone else, after today's pain. I just…wanted to make things right. That was the purpose I had set out with. _Why couldn't I do that?_ "I'm sorry…"

He shook his head again, and Barret hunched over his crossed arms with a dark mutter. A thick silence fell over the room, only broken when Cloud turned to Nanaki; Cid seemed to have satisfied his temper. "Red, how is she?"

"I can't say she's better or worse," the beast sighed, nuzzling Tifa's dark bangs. "Even if she woke soon, she couldn't possibly be fit to travel."

"I know," Cloud answered, and he looked to her prone form, the bandages wrapped around her chest. Tifa already had one scar there, something I hadn't known until today. An ugly memory of the first time Sephiroth had stabbed her. Looking at her for the moment, I was surprised to see that when Cloud turned his head away, and I followed the movement, his face was once again shuttered. That didn't seem normal. That didn't seem right. But what was right, now? He shouldn't grieve because she wasn't dead. He probably felt like he couldn't show his fear and worry to us. But still, it seemed…too smooth, too fast, almost as if, like Cait Sith, he could turn himself on and off.

 _But he's always been a good actor_ , I told myself. _That's why "Miss Cloud" was such a hit._

_And it's also how he seemed to be fine in the temple…_

My disquiet only grew as Cloud announced his plan to us. "We have to stop Sephiroth. Tifa needs to be cared for as well. …So we'll split up. One team heads North, past the snow fields—"

"Further North?" Barret said sharply, throwing him a look.

"—Sephiroth said to go there," Cloud said, nodding slightly as though to acknowledge the oddness. But obviously it wasn't too odd, as he thought it was the right thing to do, and no one else was objecting, and there was a very sick twisting feeling in my gut. At what point had Cloud hearing Sephiroth in his head become normal and accepted?

Probably, I'd realize later, ruefully, when my ability to talk to the Planet became important and threw "normal" out the window, along with everyone's guide for what was tolerable. To them, "the Planet" and "Sephiroth" were two different radio stations that each of us happened to be tuned into. One played gospel, the other angry…whatever Sephiroth would choose for music, but they were still just stations, nothing more, nothing harmful—

But at the time I didn't have the mind to come up with analogies for my friends' thinking. All my insides were twisted up with fretting at the attitude Cloud was taking. 

"The other group will stay here and take care of Tifa. Aerith, you're our best healer; you'll stay here."

No. He was not doing this. He was not—I knew instantly what team he would put himself on, always the leader and always on-point, and wanted to yell at him. Instead I mustered up a sweet, tremulous smile and let all my weariness show through. Cloud was weak for nice girls and girls-in-distress, and he needed a sucker punch to jar his senses right now. "Can you stay too?" I asked, with just a touch of petulance. "I made it here on my own, but… I'd feel safer with you." And I'd feel like he was safer, out of direct confrontation with the man who had some sick influence on him.

"Aerith, I…"

He looked uncertain; I tried to press a little further. "And…wouldn't it help Tifa, having you nearby?" And I honestly believed it might; Tifa might be hurt, but perhaps she could still sense what was going on around her.

"…I'm no healer like you," he said, lips firming into a line. "We each have to go where we can do the most. Red will stay too. If that's…," he turned to Nanaki in question as an afterthought. The beast nodded his assent; he'd never needed to be asked.

"Cloud—"

"Trust me, Aerith."

And he looked so solemn, the lightest touch of concern in his blue eyes, I couldn't avoid or dance around the point. "I do trust you," I said, and it was true.

It really, really was true, and always would be.

I just…couldn't trust whatever else was inside of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First this chapter got longer than I planned; then I couldn't be happy with any ending I wrote. phew!
> 
> A big part of this chapter's content came from a wishful slant of thinking where I wondered if, had Aerith lived, she would have been idealized as much as she has been in the compilation. One of the things about dying, especially in the process of saving the Planet, is it tends to remove you from criticism. And with Cid's temper and his skeptic tendencies compared to the others, the idea begged from a no-nonsense-no-mercy rant from him in an AU like this. Aerith did what she thought was right, but maybe there were other ways to go about doing that.


End file.
